It’s about Momentum (Blog #862)

After spending most of this last week fighting a stomach bug (or maybe food poisoning), I woke up today significantly better. Granted, I’m not ready for Thai food and pizza, but I am feeling more–what’s the word?–stable. Maybe seventy-five percent. Although my hips hurt like an old lady’s. Who knows why. Maybe that’s part of the sickness. Maybe I got dehydrated or spent too much time in bed. Either way, I could use some Bengay.

Honey, I’ve been gay my whole life.

But I digress.

In order to “celebrate” my body’s recovery, I spent today cleaning house. My parents are having company next week, so getting the house clean before their friends arrive is a family goal. (Go team.) Anyway, this afternoon I dusted most of the house, cleaned my bathroom, then tackled a few odd jobs I’ve been putting off for a while–storing a lambrekin under a bed (which required taking the bed apart), reattaching a toilet paper holder to a wall, super-gluing a wooden knickknack together, fixing the legs on my mom’s recliner, and removing a grease stain from the interior of my car, Tom Collins. My dad said, “What’s come over you?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “Sometimes I just get in a mood.”

Later when Dad and I were moving the living room couch so we (I) could vacuum under it, he said, “Don’t worry. We [you] won’t have to do any of this again for six or eight months.”

“Thank god,” I replied.

In terms of being in the mood to clean and tackle projects–really–I think it mostly comes down to just getting started. Like, I’d already set the day aside to work on the house, so as I was cleaning and remembered odd jobs I’d procrastinated, I thought, What’s one more thing? I’m already in the middle of it (cleaning and fixing shit).

Now my question is, “What are YOU in the middle of?” Because chances are, that’s what you’re going to keep doing, since that’s where your momentum is (and it’s about momentum). For instance, while cleaning this afternoon I got caught up in an episode of Dr. Phil in which a woman who’d had an affair created this HUGE ordeal (like, she went on the Dr. Phil show and claimed her phone had been hacked by Russians) in order to cover her tracks and convince her husband otherwise. Of course, this ordeal started off as one lie, then it grew from there. By the time she was IN THE MIDDLE OF IT, she and her husband had not only spent thousands of dollars on new electronics and a private investigator (who said the lady herself was the hacker), but she’d also tried to deceive half of America. And Dr. Phil!

Bitch, please.

People say, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” And whereas the emphasis of that statement is usually on the word tangled or deceive, I think it could just as easily be put on the word first. That is, where do you START? With lying or with honesty? Because that’s probably what you’ll end up in the middle of and–later– finish with. One thing leads to another. Again, it’s about momentum.

To be clear, although the example I used was about lying, the principle of momentum is neutral. For example, I’ve gotten a lot of positive benefits from both therapy and this blog, and–really–that success is largely due to the fact that I simply started something and have continued to show up to it. Often when evaluating my friendships or considering possible suitors (it does it happen occasionally), I sometimes want to ignore red flags and enjoy the fantasy for a while. But then I think, What’s one more confrontation? What’s one more boundary? I’m already in the middle of it (mental health, taking care of myself). Sometimes I want to cling to a particular object, but then I think, I can let go of this. I’m already in the middle of it (living as a minimalist, not being so attached to physical things).

We’re powerful beyond our comprehension.

This is one of the reasons, I think, why Caroline Myss says there’s no such thing as a small choice. Because one thing leads to another. I chose to clean the house today, and everything looks different now, better. I chose to go to therapy five years ago, and–oh my gosh–my entire world has been turned upside down in the best way. Caroline tells the story of a man who was on his was to commit suicide and changed his mind because a total stranger, who happened to be driving by, smiled at him. Wow. We think we can’t make a difference, that we’re not powerful. But the truth is we’re powerful beyond our comprehension. There are few things we can’t do if we simply decide to. There are few things we can’t do if we simply begin.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We follow the mystery, never knowing what’s next.

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Me and My Big Balls (Blog #411)

Recently my therapist told me I had big balls. The was said as a euphemism, of course, not as a scientific observation. A scientific observation would clearly have been a boundary violation for both of us, since she’s my very professional therapist, and I’m a (very professional) homosexual. (I don’t mean that I’m getting paid to be gay, Mom, just that this is a full-time orientation for me and I take it seriously.) Anyway, moving on. We were talking about how I often approach celebrity authors at book signings, and my therapist said, “I’d never have the courage to do that,” to which I replied, “Really?”

“Really,” she said. “And putting your entire emotional life on the internet? That takes guts. You’ve got some BIG BALLS.”

I shifted in my seat. “Uh–thanks?”

This afternoon I had lunch with a friend, and while we were eating missed a call from the insurance company of the guy who slammed into the back of me last July (while I was on my way to a funeral) because some asshole in front of us decided to suddenly stop traffic in order to save the life of a fucking turtle, an act of heroism for which I am extremely bitter and therefore continue to take to the Lord in prayer. But I digress. When lunch was over, I called the insurance company back, hoping that they’d “come to their senses” and were ready to offer me a decent settlement, something more in line with what my friends in the business have recommended I accept.

Alas, this was not the case. They didn’t budge.

Hanging up the phone, I thought, That’s it, I’m finally tired of this shit. Two hours later, I was meeting with an attorney to go over the case. And whereas older men, attorneys, and older men attorneys normally intimidate my inner gay child, I was completely at ease with this person, whom I found to be informative, matter-of-fact, and honest. For over an hour we discussed my options, as well as insurance companies and juries (neither of which, by the way, apparently have a lot of compassion for people who get the shit knocked out of them and are looking to be compensated for their lost time, money, and physical agility). “Okay,” I said, getting ready to leave his office, “I need some time to think about everything.”

For the next few hours, I was an absolute wreck. (Pardon the pun.) Not that I was nervous or anxious exactly, but as my therapist would say, “It was a lot of information,” so my mind was running wild. I kept thinking, What if I make the wrong decision?

In an effort to calm myself down and ruminate, I went for a jog this evening. Y’all, it was one of my best jogs ever–5.8 miles, nonstop–over two times my longest distance this year. (I just started back a couple weeks ago.) And whereas my body is currently screaming at me, the jog was great emotionally. I felt like I’d really done something, more than I thought I was capable of starting out. Granted, it’s two hours later and I can’t feel my feet, but still. Plus, the jog did work to calm me down. Apparently when you spend an hour treating your body like it’s twenty years younger than it actually is, you end up being too damn tired to actually care about car accidents, insurance agents, or attorneys.

Like, right now I’d settle this case for a year’s supply of BenGay and two gallons of Epsom Salts.

Grow a pair.

But back to my strictly-meant-as-a-euphemism big balls. While ruminating during my jog, I thought about how I often, frequently, and almost always get nervous or worked up about–well, nearly everything–but especially interactions with people of higher status. This category of people includes anyone prettier, richer, more famous (like celebrities), or more powerful (like attorneys) than I am, and certainly includes people working for insurance companies (because in my mind they’re so big and scary). That being said, I realized while running that I’ve been through A LOT OF SHIT in my life, and I’ve had A LOT of tough conversations, most of which I had while my heart was beating on the inside of my chest like a Jehovah’s Witness knocks on the outside of your door, but I had them. Y’all, I hate it when my heart beats like that, but in my experience the only way to get it to stop is to do the thing you’re afraid of doing–introduce yourself to a celebrity, have a hard conversation, tell an insurance agent to go hell. Tonight I thought, I’ve already done so many frightening things in my life–I refuse to roll over now. This is what I’m learning, that being scared isn’t always an invitation to run away. More often than not, it’s an invitation to grow a pair (of big balls, Mom) and run toward.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Things that shine do better when they're scattered about."